


Blurred

by charivari



Series: Decepticon Teachers AU [12]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Backstory, Competitiveness, Crimes & Criminals, Flirting, Gaming, Homophobic Language, Humanformers, M/M, Police, Prostitution, Reference to drug trafficking, Rubber Ducks, Shockwave likes purple, Surprises, Swerve feels, Swindle-ness, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Undercover Whirl, reference to drug addiction/overdose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teachers AU. Blurr gets arrested. Swindle is his cellmate. Shockwave comes to the rescue. Blurr/Shockwave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Maria. I hope you enjoy more Blurr/Shockwave because you inspired me to write some. I left the anon commenting on so you can review if you like :3

It was just Blurr's luck. Just his fucking luck. Arrested for soliciting an undercover police officer.

To his credit, the guy hadn't looked like a cop. One-eyed, scruffy appearance. Faint reek of cigarettes and mental illness. Blurr usually avoided types who might strangle him in an alleyway. But the guy had a claw for a hand. Possibly a veteran. Blurr had taken pity on him. Besides, business had been a little slow.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

The guy had played him like a chump.

"Sorry babe," the guy - Whirl - said as he locked the handcuffs on Blurr's wrists, "It almost pains me ta do this 'cuz you're so pretty. And off the record, I mighta banged you if I wasn't on duty. But seein' how I am, I gotta take you downtown."

Now Blurr was sitting in a cell in the Rodion Police Department with several unsavory looking characters. In a skimpy outfit that left nothing to the imagination.

"Hey Blue," a guy who probably had more muscle than brain cells called to him, "It's pretty cold in here. Why don't you shift over here and we can warm each other up?"

Blurr flashed him a smile,

"No thanks."

"Aww come on," muscles crooned, "Ain't like you have anything better to do." 

He patted the space next to him. 

Blurr bit back a retort. He had to tread carefully. This guy was twice his size.

He adopted an apologetic tone,

"I'm reflecting on the error of my ways," he told, "It's a private sort of thing. I'm sure you'll understand."

But that only succeeded in pissing the guy off. Blurr tried not to cringe as he rose off the bench to his full height.

"No you don't understand. I don't like hoity-toity whores who think they're better than me. Now you come over here before I make you..."

"Sledge," a stern voice interrupted, "Sit back down."

Blurr looked over to see an tall intimidating officer standing besides a small man in a pin-striped suit and tinted glasses. He was grinning. 

The officer was not. His gaze had enough intensity to melt steel. 

Sledge sat back down, chastened. 

The officer unlocked the cell and gestured at the smaller, still smiling man.

"Join your friends Swindle. And behave."

Swindle raised his hands in a theatrical gesture,

"Of course Officer Magnus. I wouldn't dream of causing any trouble. I'll see you in a few hours when you realize you don't have enough evidence to charge me."

Blurr had to admire the guy's moxie. Talking to a police officer with this level of insolence, especially one of Magnus' stature.

"We'll see about that Swindle," he said coolly.

He locked the cell and left. Blurr watched Swindle move to greet his cellmates like an enthusiastic host,

"Sledge, Tankor et Tankor, always a pleasure."

He pivoted and smiled at Blurr, 

"And you, I believe we haven't been officially introduced," he slid over to Blurr, gathered up his hand, kissed it, "Corner of Iacon and Third, am I right?" 

"Er yes. How did you..."

"Oh I make it a habit to know everyone and everything," Swindle grinned, "Helps with business."

"And what is your business?" Blurr asked.

"A little of this, a little of that," Swindle breezed, "I won't bore you with the details. Name's Swindle, just in case you didn't hear."

"I did," Blurr hesitated before adding, "I'm Blurr."

Swindle plopped down beside him,

"Blurr. _Blurr_. I like it. Short, catchy," his hand briefly squeezed Blurr's knee, "So Blurr, how'd you wind up here?"

"Soliciting an undercover cop," Blurr sighed.

"Ah," Swindle nodded in understanding, "Who was it?"

"Guy called Whirl. One eye..."

"Claw hand," Swindle finished, "Yeah I can see how you mistook him for a genuine customer. How that maniac is allowed to run around under the guise of the 'law' is beyond me."

"What were you arrested for?" Blurr asked.

"'Drug trafficking'", Swindle used his fingers to make air quotes, "Magnus and his team busted into my warehouse under the pretense of finding a massive shipment of cocaine. All they found were crates of rubber duckies."

"Like the ones kids use in the bath?"

"Yep. Made in Tarn. Very cheap. But Magnus arrested me anyway. Guy thinks there might be cocaine hidden inside the duckies. Not that he'll find anything."

Swindle smiled,

"And once he realizes that, he'll have no choice but to let me go."

"You sound confident," Blurr observed.

"Confidence is everything, my friend," Swindle answered, "Especially when you can back it up. Me and Magnus, we've been playing this cat and mouse thing for a while. He's never come up with anything that sticks. It drives him crazy. Maybe one day he'll take a Javert-esque dive into a river."

Blurr didn't really understand the reference. But he didn't inquire at the risk of sounding ignorant.

"So you are a legitimate seller of rubber duckies?" 

"Among other things," Swindle smiled secretively, "Like I said before, a little of this, a little of that. But enough about me..."

He patted Blurr's knee again,

"What about you? Your pimp coming to your rescue?"

"I don't have a pimp."

"Self-employed. Admirable," Swindle stretched his arms above his head, "Though not so admirable when you get stuck in a place like this. What's the damage?"

"1,000 shanix fine."

"First time offender," Swindle said, "That's not too bad."

"It is when I don't have it on me," Blurr said bitterly, "I had only 150 from my previous client. Whirl took it as evidence."

"Ha evidence right," Swindle scoffed, "He'll probably use it to buy a hand job from another hooker once he's off duty."

Blurr thrust his fingers through his dyed blue hair,

"Guess it doesn't matter anyway. 150 isn't exactly 1,000."

"Not unless you know the right person."

Blurr turned to see Swindle's broad grin.

"Tonight's your lucky night, Blurr, my new buddy. I just so happen to have 1,000 shanix at my disposal." 

Blurr stared at him dubiously,

"You would pay my fine?"

"Sure you seem like a nice guy. I'll only charge you 2.5% interest after the first 12 hours."

Blurr wasn't all that surprised. Of course there had to be a catch. Why else would a stranger offer to pay his fine?

But given Blurr had a lack of funds, he saw no reason not to haggle.

"Isn't that a little steep?" he said, "Maybe 1% after the first 24 hours."

"I usually charge 5%," Swindle countered, "Anyway, a good looking guy like you. You'll make back the money in no time."

Blurr bit his lip. There were too many variables. He might not be able to attract enough clients in the time frame. Also there was the risk of him accidentally soliciting another cop.

Given Blurr's recent run of luck that seemed likely.

On the other hand, he wanted to get out of this cell. Swindle's presence seemed to be keeping the likes of Sledge at bay. 

But if he was right about being released soon, Blurr would be left to fend for himself.

"I don't know," he said aloud.

"You won't get a better deal," Swindle crooned, "Though if you'd prefer to spend the night in the Rodion Police Presidential Suite with our companions..."

Sledge chose that moment to give Blurr an ominous wave. Bile rose in Blurr's throat.

"No hard feelings," Swindle finished.

Blurr's mind kicked into overdrive. He needed to decide before Swindle perhaps withdrew the offer or increased the interest. 

He was sexy right. He could make up the money in 12 hours. His hands and mouth would be killing him by the end of it. But it was doable.

Better than Sledge assaulting him in a cell.

Yes, he decided, he'd take Swindle's offer. 

He turned to tell him so. 

"Blurr?" a deep voice made him pause,

It was an officer rivalling Magnus for size. But unlike his colleague, his imposing aura was slightly spoilt by the fact he was sipping out of a juice box. The kind children took to school in their lunch boxes.

With his free hand, he opened the cell.

"You're free to go."

Blurr stared at him in confusion.

"What?"

The officer took a noisy slurp of his juice.

"Your fine has been paid. Come along now."

But Blurr remained rooted in place.

"But - how?"

He glanced at Swindle.

"Don't look at me," he said, "I don't hand out the goods before a deal. Guess you've got a guardian angel on your side."

"I don't have all night," Officer Juice Box said impatiently.

Blurr rose, somewhat in a daze. Swindle caught his arm,

"Before you go. Here's my card."

He pressed a business card into Blurr's hand. 

"Just in case you need me."

"Get your greasy paw off him Swindle."

Swindle complied with a congenial smile,

"Certainly."

Blurr clutched the card in his palm as he made his way out of the cell. 

"I'd go easy on the juice if I was you, Officer Roller," Swindle said cheerfully, "The stuff that goes in it, can't be good for your health."

His gaze slipped to Blurr and he winked.

Blurr didn't quite understand. Whatever the in-joke was, Roller didn't seem amused.

He led Blurr towards the front desk. 

"If I were you, I'd rip that card into tiny pieces. You don't want to get mixed up with a guy like Swindle."

Blurr stared down at the card. 

"Who paid my fine?" he asked.

Roller didn't answer.

There were two people waiting at the front desk for them.

"Here he is Pax," Blurr dimly heard Roller say.

He had to addressing the uniformed officer. Yet another physically imposing specimen. Blurr might have wondered why Rodion's police force was comprised of giants.

But his attention was on his companion. Not a cop. A civilian, one quite familiar with his impassive expression.

"Shockwave."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello Blurr," Shockwave greeted him in monotone.

Then he turned to Pax, 

"So everything is in order?"

"I believe so," Pax replied, "Blurr was given an STI test when he was brought in. Someone from the Rodion Clinic will contact you with the results. There is also a seminar on Safe Sex run at the precinct every Wednesday at 11 am. It is mandatory Blurr attends."

"I'll ensure he does," Shockwave said while Blurr continued to gape.

Pax nodded,

"Then you're free to take him," he glanced over at Blurr, "You're very fortunate to have a caring older brother Blurr. For his sake and yours, I hope this first conviction is your last. There are better ways to make a living, son."

Blurr blinked rapidly.

Brother?

"Thank Officer Pax Blurr," Shockwave intoned, "He's been very generous in securing your release."

Blurr stared wildly at Shockwave before nodding.

"Er, thanks."

It was better to roll with this insanity until he could get some answers. He watched Shockwave shake hands with both Pax and Roller.

"Come along Blurr," he said afterwards and Blurr followed him outside.

Blurr took a split second to savor his freedom before unleashing his confusion.

"Okay would you mind telling me what the Hell's going on? How did you know I was here? Why did that cop call me your brother?"

"I think it's imprudent for me to answer your questions outside the police station," Shockwave answered, "It would be wiser to distance ourselves first."

"So let's do that," Blurr said impatiently.

Shockwave gestured a little way down the street,

"I have a taxi waiting."

"Don't you own a car?" Blurr asked.

"I do," Shockwave answered, "But considering this area has a high rate of car theft and vandalism, taxi seemed preferable."

Blurr couldn't argue with that logic. He followed Shockwave to the waiting taxi and joined him in the back seat.

"Same address as I picked ya up?" the cabbie asked.

"Yes," Shockwave glanced at Blurr, "Unless you would prefer being taken to your own dwelling?"

Blurr cringed. Despite all his confusion, he didn't want to Shockwave to see his hellhole of a neighborhood, or worse still, the shoe-box he lived in.

"No, let's go to yours."

Shockwave didn't reveal anything during their journey. Blurr presumed it was the presence of the cabbie, who turned out to be annoyingly opinionated. Blurr didn't care about the rise in crime or fuel costs. He sat tapping his foot impatiently while the cabbie droned on.

At one point Shockwave reached over and placed his hand on Blurr's knee. Blurr's leg stilled at the action. He glanced at Shockwave for motive but the science teacher was staring ahead impassively.

Perhaps it had been bothering him. The tapping. Whatever the reason Blurr liked the weight of Shockwave's hand. It reminded him of their coupling after that disaster of a party, Blurr guiding Shockwave's hands in all the places he wanted to be touched.

Blurr half-expected Shockwave to shift his hand up his thigh. But instead, a few seconds later, Shockwave drew his hand away entirely. Blurr felt a sting of disappointment. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps because Shockwave groping him might have shed light on the situation. Given some insight into his motive for rescuing him.

If he wasn't after sex, why had he had done it?

How had he known about his arrest in the first place?

Nothing made any sense.

Blurr resisted the urge to scream out his frustration inside the taxi.

They finally reached their destination. Blurr marveled at Shockwave's stately house. He had almost forgotten how impressive it was. How could he even afford it on a teacher's salary. Had he inherited it? Won the lottery?

Blurr supposed it didn't matter. Not as much as the fact he envied him for it. Blurr could have had a house like this. If those mobsters hadn't broken his leg, prevented him from winning his big race.

Life was unfair, Blurr thought as Shockwave let him inside the house, life was really fucking unfair.

He followed Shockwave into the parlor.

"So spill already," he demanded, "How did you know I'd been arrested?"

A thought crossed Blurr's mind,

"Have you been _stalking_ me?"

"Of course not," Shockwave said, "Would you like something to drink?"

Blurr might have rebuked him for changing the subject. But the evening he'd had, he wanted a drink.

"Something strong."

"I have whiskey," Shockwave said, "It was a gift from Tarn. You would remember him perhaps. He attended the End of Year Party."

"The guy with the freaky piercings? Yeah."

Shockwave didn't comment on the description. He crossed over to a wooden liquor cabinet and poured a single glass of whiskey.

Blurr ventured closer,

"You aren't going to have any?" he asked.

Shockwave offered him the glass,

"I don't usually partake in intoxicants."

Blurr's mouth twisted,

"So why have a fully-stocked liquid cabinet?"

"For guests."

"And I'm a guest?"

Blurr thought this was a strange term to apply to a hooker.

"You fit the definition, yes."

Blurr didn't argue. He tossed back the whiskey. It burned down his throat and he smacked his lips appreciatively,

"This is good stuff."

Shockwave refilled his glass,

"I believe Tarn is something of a connoisseur."

"Heh, he doesn't look like it."

Blurr downed his refill, mind buzzing pleasurably.

"I think you better tell me everything before I stop caring," he said with a grin.

All the same he held his glass back out. This time Shockwave didn't refill it. He moved out of the room entirely and returned with another glass of what appeared to be chilled water.

"Drink this first."

Blurr rolled his eyes before chugging down the water. It tasted a lot better than the stuff that came out of his kitchen tap.

"I suppose it would make more sense to start at the beginning," Shockwave began, "Officer Pax attended a Career Day at Rodion High. I found him very informative."

"Uh huh," Blurr stressed a bored tone, "And that's important because?"

"It wasn't at the time. Pax's crime statistics were interesting data. But they had no real world significance given I didn't know anyone involved in such activities."

"Until you met me."

"Pax indicated that prostitution was one of his precinct's main concerns due to the prominence of human trafficking. Therefore I concluded it was rather likely that you would end up being arrested. So I contacted Pax, asking if anyone called Blurr was arrested with your description if he could contact me. Given he could only do so if I was a family member, I said you were my half-brother."

"Half-brother?" Blurr echoed. 

"I thought it would be more believable. Given we do not share much resemblance."

Blurr held up his hands,

"Okay, okay, I understand all that now. What I don't understand is why you went about this overly complicated plan just on the slight chance I would be arrested."

"Statistically, the chances were quite high."

"That doesn't matter," Blurr cried, "I want to know why. Why you went to all this trouble? And why, for that matter, would you willingly fork over 1,000 shanix to get me out of jail?"

Shockwave was a silent a moment before answering,

"I admit the reason is not so clear, even to myself. You... for lack of a better word, intrigue me."

Blurr stared at him in bewilderment,

"I intrigue you?"

He had definitely never heard that before. His mouth twitched and he burst out laughing.

"What is so humorous?" Shockwave asked.

The deadpan delivery only made Blurr laugh harder.

"Oh - just that answer - and - and everything about this situation!" he wheezed between spasms of laughter, "I mean, I know I'm sexy and hardly forgettable - but it's like the plot of a bad romcom. Robotic nerd rescues prostitute. Why? Because he's intrigued by him!"

He trailed off into giggles.

"Stop laughing," Shockwave commanded.

Laughter died in Blurr's throat. He stared up at Shockwave's stern expression in surprise.

He'd crossed a line, he knew that. Maybe Shockwave had a complex about being laughed at. Stemming from childhood perhaps? Blurr wasn't a psychologist. But a robotic-talking kid seemed a likely target for bullying.

Smart Blurr, really smart. Piss off the guy you owe big time.

"Sorry," he murmured, "I think the whiskey's gone to my head."

"Perhaps you should sit down," Shockwave's tone was no longer as cold, "I'll fetch you some more water."

"No," Blurr reached for him, "Stay."

He wound his arms around Shockwave's neck,

"I want to show you how grateful I am."

He ground his body against the taller man.

"You believe this is what I want?" Shockwave said.

Blurr nuzzled his chest,

"What else could you want?"

Blurr frowned as Shockwave prized his arms from around his neck.

"Come with me," he said.

Blurr decided not to question it. He followed him up the staircase to the upper floor.

There were doors lining the hallway. Shockwave opened one and hit the light switch. The room was twice the size of Blurr's shoe-box, not counting what look liked an en suite. But what mostly caught Blurr's eye was the king size bed with a royal purple duvet.

"Classy," he said.

"You can sleep in here tonight."

Blurr was taken aback. He had thought this was where Shockwave wanted to do the deed. Turns out it wasn't even on his mind.

"We'll talk more in the morning."

Blurr opened his mouth. Then promptly shut it again. The guy was offering up a luxury bedroom to spend the night so why argue. It was better than going home. In fact, he couldn't even pay the fare to get home. Not that he wanted to.

So he accepted Shockwave's generosity without complaint.

"If that's what you want," he smiled, "Boss."

Shockwave didn't react to the nickname. Blurr wondered if he suffered some form of nerve damage. Seriously he couldn't remember the guy cracking a smile during their first encounter either.

"Goodnight Blurr," he intoned.

"Aren't you gonna kiss me goodnight?"

Shockwave didn't answer. But he remained motionless so Blurr took that as invitation. He pressed a sultry kiss to Shockwave's mouth, snagging his bottom lip with his teeth.

"Are you sure you don't want me to sleep with you?"

He felt Shockwave push him away gently,

"Considering the number of essays I have to grade, I doubt I will be doing much sleeping."

"I could keep you company," Blurr offered.

"Kind as that is, you would only distract me."

Blurr grinned.

"Well I wouldn't want to _distract_ you."

Again no hint of smile from Shockwave. But Blurr was reasonably sure he caught Blurr's meaning.

The science teacher headed back downstairs. Blurr turned his attention back to the guestroom. Or, as it was for the night, Blurr's awesome-room-that-was-all-Blurr's.

He checked the en suite first. Shockwave seemed to have a liking for purple. The towels were the same shade as the duvet.

Blurr preferred blue. But that was a minor criticism.

The bathroom was massive and clean and free of cockroaches.

And hot water. Hot water that didn't turn to icy water after five minutes. Blurr remained under the shower-head until his fingers turned pruney.

He toweled himself dry and slipped under the covers of the bed without bothering to dress. His outfit had the stink of the streets on it. He didn't want to ruin this blissful feeling of being squeaky clean.

The sheets were purple too. Silk. Cool and comforting against his bare skin.

He spread out his arms and legs with a contented sigh.

Considering the wacky turn of events, this wasn't a bad way to end the night.

Blurr closed his eyes and let sleep take him.


	3. Chapter 3

Blurr woke in unusual comfort. No neighbors screaming. No police sirens. No morning chill due to his flat’s lack of heating. He woke to silence, cocooned in warm sheets. It disorientated him for a moment.

Oh that’s right. He was at Shockwave’s place, in his guestroom.

Blurr smiled, languishing in the warmth and comfort of the bed. He could have easily stayed nestled there for a few more hours. But his stomach was empty and it was whining for fuel.

With a sigh, Blurr kicked back the sheets and rose from bed. Shockwave would have food. His kitchen was probably stocked with more than sugary cereal that Blurr rationed like he was living in war times.

With some distaste he donned his clothes from the previous night. He would have liked to throw on something clean. But given the rest of his clothes were back at his flat, he didn’t have much of a choice. He could walk downstairs naked. But he wasn’t sure how Shockwave would react to that.

Probably not at all. He would give him that impassive look of his and say something in monotone. Something like “Where are your clothes Blurr?” without any surprise or ogling. Blurr grinned. Shockwave was weird.

So weird he’d let a hooker stay in his guestroom for free. After bailing Blurr out of police lockup.

Blurr shook his head. In the light of day it still made little sense to him. Especially with his current hunger pangs. He decided not to analyze things any further. Not until he was fed. He headed downstairs.

The thought occurred he should probably find Shockwave first. He didn’t want to jeopardize the man’s generosity by helping himself to his food. He checked the living room. Nope. A few of the other doors downstairs were locked. But one door swung open, revealing some sort of study.

Shockwave was slumped over a desk, face buried in the crook of his arms. There were a pile of papers next to him. Student essays, Blurr assumed. The F written in red on the top paper confirmed it.

Sucks to be Misfire, whoever the kid was.

Blurr turned his attention to Shockwave. He wondered how long he had been asleep. Maybe not long. Blurr almost reconsidered waking him. But damn it, he was hungry. And wasn’t it a school day? Blurr was doing Shockwave a favor by waking him. He nudged his shoulder,

“Shocky, wakey wakey.”

Shockwave stirred. He lifted his face in Blurr’s direction.

Blurr let out a scream of fright.

Shockwave’s left eye was missing.

There was nothing but a pink fleshy hole.

Shockwave frowned,

"Why are you screaming?"

"YOUR EYE!" Blurr gesticulated.

"Oh," Shockwave said calmly, “I see.”

He opened a drawer to his desk and pulled out a small container. As soon as Blurr caught sight of the round object inside, he understood.

“You have a fake eye.”

“Evidently,” Shockwave’s tone was dry and rang faintly of sarcasm.

Blurr hadn’t thought Shockwave was capable of sarcasm.

But then he hadn’t noticed he had a fake fucking eye either.

"It was a childhood accident,” Shockwave answered his unspoken question.

Blurr grimaced as the science teacher inserted the eye into the empty socket. He did so with admirable precision. But it still turned Blurr’s stomach.

"Does it disgust you?" Shockwave’s query made him flinch.

Blurr raised his hands disarmingly,

"No. No,” he assured him, “It just... surprised me. I never noticed it before."

"The wonders of prosthetic advancement,” Shockwave intoned, “Did you sleep well?"

Blurr did his best not to stare blatantly at the fake eye.

"Yes."

"Are you hungry?" Shockwave inquired.

“Uh not really.”

After watching an eyeball being inserted, Blurr didn’t feel much like eating.

Shockwave frowned,

“Given how long you have gone without nourishment, I find that highly unlikely.”

Blurr forced a smile,

“I’m not a big eater,” he added after a beat, “Maybe coffee.”

He might be able to stomach that. Shockwave’s fake eye wasn’t as gross now it was lodged in his head. He followed Shockwave into the kitchen. He hovered while the teacher prepared two cups of coffee. The aroma was enough for Blurr to congratulate himself on the decision.

Still he couldn’t help glancing at Shockwave’s eye as he passed him his cup. It would take some getting used to. Blurr wondered how Shockwave had lost his original eye. A few gruesome possibilities leapt into his head and he cursed himself.

Focus on the coffee Blurr. That in itself wasn’t too hard. It smelled even more delicious up close. Blurr took an eager gulp and ended up burning his mouth. His discomfort didn’t go unnoticed.

“I warned you it was hot,” Shockwave said.

Blurr stared at him in objection. He hadn’t… Oh wait, Shockwave had said something as he handed him the coffee. Blurr had been too distracted by his eye.

Sullenly he blew over the rim of the cup in attempt to cool its contents.

“Always rushing.”

Blurr glanced at Shockwave.

“What?”

“You seem to have an innate haste about you,” Shockwave elaborated, “I’ve noticed. Even your manner of speaking.”

Blurr had heard that before. He shrugged.

“Life’s too short to go slow.”

Shockwave raised his own coffee to his lips,

“Then we should get down to business.”

“Business?” Blurr echoed.

“Perhaps not the most precise term,” Shockwave said, “Considering there won’t be any contractual obligation involved…”

Blurr sighed,

“Okay I may talk fast but you aren't making sense. Give it to me straight Shockwave.”

Shockwave’s resulting gaze was stern, the kind of look he likely gave disruptive students.

“Give it to you straight?” he repeated, “Very well. Your current line of work is no longer viable.”

Blurr paused from blowing on his coffee.

“Viable?”

“You have been arrested once and will likely be arrested again. Since you evidently lack the funds to procure your release, the consequence will be incarceration. The length of which increases the more times you are convicted. In short, considering all the possible variables, continuing to prostitute yourself will only end in an unfavorable result.”

Blurr scowled. It was easy for Shockwave to sit there and tell him this. Shockwave with his legitimate job and fancy house. Blurr wasn’t so lucky.

“In case you haven’t noticed I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Incorrect,” Shockwave said, “You could opt to stay here with me.”

Blurr’s indignation was quickly replaced with confusion.

“What?”

“I believe I expressed myself quite clearly,” Shockwave said, “I am inviting you to live me with me.”

“As what?” Blurr attempted to comprehend, “Your sex slave?”

“No,” Shockwave said, “The arrangement would not be dependent on sexual favors.”

“Then you’re kinda cutting yourself a raw deal,” Blurr said, “It is my specialty.”

“As you may recall, I didn’t hire your services for that express purpose.”

Blurr supposed that was true. Shockwave hadn’t been the one to even initiate sex between them. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it though. Granted he hadn’t been that expressive but he had climaxed. Three times.

So had Blurr for that matter.

“So you want a continuation of the boyfriend experience?” he speculated, “Is that it?”

Well that wasn’t bad. Out of the ordinary but… Blurr could think of worse things to do for free bed and board.

“Not exactly,” Shockwave answered, “While publically I do see the benefit in continuing such subterfuge. I have had colleagues ask after you…”

“What did you tell them?” Blurr asked curiously.

“I said you were away with work.”

“Suppose that wasn’t a lie,” Blurr said dryly, “Anyway you were saying?”

“Privately there would be no need for such illusion,” Shockwave went on, “I want to interact with your true self. To know you. To understand why you intrigue me.”

Blurr pursed his lips together.

“So… It’s some kind of an experiment?”

“In a way,” Shockwave answered, “Most things in life, Blurr, are experiments.”

That was a very Shockwave-y thing to say. And very Shockwave-y reasoning. Blurr might have been offended at the idea of being a science project. But it wasn’t as though Shockwave wanted to dissect him.

He wanted company of all things.

“You know normal people would just get a dog,” he attempted to joke.

Shockwave quirked his head ever so slightly,

“I am doubtful a domestic animal would provide… quite the same stimulation.”

“Stimulation?” Blurr repeated with a grin, “I thought you said no sex.”

“I was referring to mental stimulation,” Shockwave answered, “But in regards to physical intimacy, I said it wasn’t conditional. Not that it wasn’t permissible.”

Blurr didn’t know what permissible meant. But he knew what it sounded like.

“So we can have sex if we want?”

“Affirmative.”

Blurr was relieved. It had been bothering him that Shockwave had been rejecting his advances up until now. As it turned out, the teacher had been preoccupied with his nerdy social experiment idea.  

“What are your thoughts on the arrangement?” Shockwave asked.

Blurr probably should have taken time to give the offer more serious thought. But he was the type of person who dived straight in. Life was too short, as he had told Shockwave. The alternative was his craphole apartment and the risk of imprisonment.

“I say let’s do it,” he answered.

“Good,” Shockwave said, “I am glad to hear to it.”

Blurr couldn’t distinguish any joy in his monotone. But that was irrelevant. Shockwave had been the one who had proposed the idea. So he could only be pleased to have Blurr accept.

Still he was surprised to watch Shockwave glance at his watch and announce,

“I have class in an hour. I need to get ready.”

Blurr frowned. That was it. Deal sealed and Shockwave was simply going to head off to school.

“Wait,” he said, “Aren’t we going to celebrate?”

“What would you suggest?” Shockwave asked.

“I don’t know,” Blurr said, “Fuck?”

It was the first thing that popped into his head.

“That’s likely to make me late,” Shockwave said.

Blurr was mystified by the teacher’s priorities.

“Does it matter? Call in sick, take the day off.”

“I’ve already prepared my lesson plan,” Shockwave told him, “And I like to stick to my schedule.”

“Obviously,” Blurr muttered.

Shockwave studied him a moment,

“We’ll celebrate when I return home.”

Blurr supposed that was all well and good. But it left a question.

“What I am supposed to do until then?”

You could collect your belongings,” Shockwave checked his watch again, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Blurr supposed he would. He drank the rest of his now lukewarm coffee while Shockwave went about his business. He returned a while later, wearing a dark purple shirt offset by a grey waistcoat.

Blurr admitted he looked kinda hot. Not many guys could pull off purple.

“You look nice.”

Shockwave actually seemed startled. Well, the Shockwave muted equivalent of startled.

“Thank you,” he intoned before extending his hand, “Spare key. In case you leave the house.”

Blurr accepted the key, closing his fist around it.

“Uh, I need cab money,” he said somewhat awkwardly, “To fetch my stuff.”

Shockwave didn’t bat an eyelid. He opened his wallet and offered Blurr a handful of notes.

Blurr counted it quickly,

"Um. This is 200 shanix."

“Is that a problem?”

The nonchalance took Blurr by surprise.

"You do realize I could take this money and not come back?"

"You could,” Shockwave replied, “But the outcome would be ultimately disadvantageous.”

He had a point. 200 shanix wouldn’t last long. Not with Blurr’s expenses, his apartment, food, prophylactics. And it could barely pay his fine if he was re-arrested.

“I’ll see you when I arrive home,” Shockwave said.

Blurr nodded,

“I’ll be here.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, thanks you for all the lovely comments and kudos :)
> 
> Not a lot of Shocky in this chapter. Mostly fleshing out Blurr's backstory. Plus Drift cameo :3

It didn't cost Blurr two hundred shanix for a cab back to Rodion, though it was still overpriced. When Blurr complained, the sharp-tongue driver told him it was outta his way, in fact it was outta every cabbie's way, didn't Blurr know that no cabbie liked heading through that bad part of town. That's why it cost extra, the wiseguy explained, besides, Blurr seemed like he could afford it.

Blurr scowled at him from the backseat, knowing that he looked every inch like a hooker. The cabbie obviously assumed that picking him up in a rich suburb like Translucentica Heights meant Blurr's client wasn't some back alley cheapskate. He was correct of course. But Blurr hated being ripped off.

He might have done a runner in an ordinary circumstance. But he didn't want to the guy involving the cops. Plus he would still have an ample amount left over. So he tossed the driver the appropriate notes with a grumble.

"Asshole," he said as he climbed out of the cab.

"Faggot," the driver replied, leering at him through the window.

He pulled away before Blurr had a chance to retort. He forced himself to let it go. He had been called worse. Especially walking the streets of Rodion.

Thank Primus he was getting out of this dump. He entered his derelict residential building as stealthily as he could. Sometimes his son of a bitch landlord camped out near the entrance to demand rent money. To Blurr's good fortune, the space between the front door and stairs was empty. A good thing his landlord also had a drinking problem. He was probably in the middle of a booze-induced coma.

Blurr prayed it would remain that way. He didn't want to be accosted for compensation due to breaking his lease, especially after how many times son-of-a-bitch had threatened to evict him. He planned to pack and dash. Something he had grown skilled at over the years, slipping out of previous lodgings in the dead of night to avoid overdue rent.

There was a single suitcase under his prison cot of a bed. It fit all his belongings, of which there were few. Several outfits, toiletries, an emergency stash of money he kept under a loose floorboard. A photo of his beloved blue dragster, the one he painstakingly modified despite incurring massive debt, the one he had entered in Rodion's illegal street racing tournament expecting to claim a big cash prize, enough to pay his debts and bring him fame and glory.

Then the mobsters had broken his leg. Left him in hospital, left him with hospital bills on top of the debt for his dragster, which had ended up being repossessed when Blurr couldn't meet the deadline.

Suddenly he had nothing. Nada. Zip. Just a shattered dream and a dog-eared photo, a photo of what he'd once had, of what he'd come so close to achieving.

Staring at it bought on a torrent of emotion. Mostly anger. He dropped a heap of clothes on top of the photo, burying it from view.

He wished he could tear it up. Forget that chapter.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't tear up the photo. No more than he could stop stupidly dreaming of racing.

A knock startled him. He glanced over at his door.

Fuck. Landlord must have pulled himself out of his stupor.

Blurr stood very still, knowing any movement would make the noisy floorboards creak, give away his presence.

"Blurr," a voice called, much softer and less aggressive than the landlord's, "You home?"

Blurr relaxed. He slipped over and unlocked the door.

Drift stood in the hallway, dressed in his janitor's jumpsuit.

"Hey sexy janitor," Blurr greeted him, "It's been a while."

"Yeah," Drift's voice was tinged with apology, "Has been."

Blurr motioned him inside,

"Guess that clinic's been keeping you busy."

That's where Drift spent most of his time now. Time he’d once spent with Blurr on their shared street corner **.** Back when he was a heroin-addict, selling his body for the next fix. They had gotten along. Drift, for all his drug-withdrawal twitchiness, was far less territorial than most of Rodion's hookers. He hadn't minded Blurr working in close proximity.

In fact it had often worked to their advantage, a client liking the look of both of them, wanting to watch them together.

Both had accepted without much hesitation, Drift too desperate for a fix, Blurr too desperate to turn down money.

Blurr admitted it was enjoyable, Drift was nicer to fondle than most of the johns. Slightly emaciated but oh so gorgeous. Not in the conventional sense, not like Blurr, but his own unique brand.

Drift had the beauty of cracked glass, wounded with the potential to shatter.

And shattered he had one night, when he had started OD-ing the middle of a three-way.

The client had quickly jumped ship, leaving Blurr to support Drift to the free clinic. It had been a miracle that the medic on call had been able to save his life.

Saved his life in more ways than one. The doctor - Ratchet - had given Drift his job. Made sure he kicked his habit.

Drift had been clean for months now. It showed. He was healthier, happier. But there was still that air of fragility, of someone had been to Hell and back.

The glass had been pieced back together but there was still faint lines of where it had cracked.

It showed even as Drift shot him a small smile,

"I bought you something," he dug into his pockets and bought out two handfuls of condoms, "They give them out for free at the clinic so..."

Blurr accepted them with amusement. 

"Aw that's sweet," he flicked one back at Drift, "You might wanna keep one for you and Dr. Savior."

Drift frowned.

"It's not like that," he said, fingering the edges of the condom packet restlessly, "Ratchet's a friend. And my boss."

Blurr didn't comment. Conversations involving Drift's new hero only ended up in Drift getting flustered at Blurr's insinuations.

"Then I'll take that back," he plucked the condom from between Drift's fingers, "And put it to good use."

Blurr thought of Shockwave and a smile crept over his lips as he deposited the condom stash in his suitcase.

He heard Drift's light treads as he ventured closer,

"You're packing?"

Blurr's smile widened into a grin,

"Uh huh. I'm moving up in the world," he told Drift, "I met a guy. A fabulously wealthy guy, who wants me to move in with him."

"Oh," Drift sounded at a loss for words, "That's... sudden."

Blurr felt himself tense. He could read the unspoken meaning in Drift's words. The idea that he was rushing into things.

But of course Drift didn't understand the full situation.

"I've known him a while," he assured Drift, "He's a nice guy, a bit socially awkward but nice. He's a teacher."

"Oh," Drift said, in the same uncertain tone as before, "What does he teach?"

That comforted Blurr somewhat. At least his friend could force an interest.

"Science," he answered, "He's a nerd. Kinda hot, in his own way. And loaded."

Drift was quiet for a moment,

"So... you're dating?"

"Uh, not quite."

Blurr wasn't even sure how to describe his and Shockwave's arrangement. But it definitely didn't fit into the simplistic confines of 'dating'.

He glanced at Drift. He could see his answer hadn't exactly put him at ease.

"Drift, buddy, it's... complicated," he said, "But it's better than this dump. And hooking."

"I could ask Ratchet if there's room for another janitor," Drift offered.

Blurr shook his head.

"No offence. But the janitor look wouldn't suit me."

He had no interest cleaning out bins for the rest of his life. Especially not with Shockwave's arrangement on the table.

After a quick scan of the room, satisfied it was empty apart from the skeletal furnishings it had come with, he went to shut his suitcase. Since he had been more careless than methodical, it became a struggle.

Drift silently moved to assist him. Between the two of them they managed to get the suitcase closed. After the small elation of success waned, Blurr sensed Drift's anxiety, hunkered close to him.

"I want this," he said aloud.

It was the truth. A simple statement of fact.

Drift nodded, not quite comforted but acquiescing.

"Okay."

He was close, too close to resist. Blurr moved to kiss his lips.

It was spur of the moment, grasping a window of opportunity. Drift was still as lovely as ever, more so now without the fog of addiction that had made him forget to shower. Heroin Drift had always stunk of cheap perfume, ladled on top of the grime. It had been a slight turn off at the time.

But Drift’s face, his dirty angelic face, had been enough to sway Blurr every time. Made him want him. Made him want him now.

Janitor Blurr smelled of soap and shampoo. He smelt good. His lips felt good, not as dry and chapped as Heroin Blurr’s, smooth against Blurr’s own and he wanted to kiss and bite them until they were swollen.  

But Drift lurched away.

He looked guilty. The kind of guilty Blurr realized he should feel, considering he was about to move in with Shockwave. But then, Shockwave hadn’t stated Blurr couldn’t sleep with other men, only that he wouldn’t prostitute himself.

And this wasn’t prostitution. Not like Blurr and Drift’s previous encounters.

So in Blurr’s mind, this was okay. Acceptable. Not at all breaking the conditions of the arrangement.

Besides, Shockwave would never have to know. Perhaps he wouldn’t even care. At the end of the day Blurr was still coming to live with him. What he did on the way was irrelevant right?

“Hey,” he coaxed Drift in a low calm voice, “C’mon.”

He leaned forward but Drift scuttled back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his chest, “I like you but… It’s too much like the old times.”

The explanation took Blurr by surprise.

“This is different Drift. It’s just us. No one’s watching. Jerking off. Telling us what to do…”

“I know,” Drift said with a slight flinch, “But it still reminds me of the past.”

The words stung. That Drift would lump him in with the past he would prefer to forget, that he would shy from his touch because it reminded him of all the perverts who’d paid to watch them.

“If the past makes you feel so bad, why are you here?” Blurr snapped.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Drift answered, “You saved my life Blurr. I’ll never forget that. But I don’t want sex like this. I want…”

He trailed off self-consciously. Blurr didn’t ask him to finish. He knew the end to that sentence.

It was something Drift had probably wanted since he was a small neglected child, the lack of which he had substituted with highs, the one thing that now seemed possible now he was clean, employed, life on track.

He wanted love.

Blurr was realist. He had only loved his dragster and winning.

Both of which had been taken away from him. That’s where love got you. A kick in the gut from the guy upstairs.

But despite Drift’s rejection, he didn’t wish his friend any ill will.

Drift had been kicked in the gut as much as Blurr in his life.

Blurr wasn’t about to subject him to more by serving up a cold, hard slice of reality.

“I get it,” he told him instead, “I mean, you’re nuts to pass this up. But I get it.”

Drift gave him a small grateful smile.

Blurr straightened, lifting his suitcase off the bed by the handle.

“I better scoot,” he told Drift, “Don’t want my shitty landlord catching me leaving.”

Drift nodded in understanding,

“I’ll walk you out. In case he tries to make trouble.”

Blurr might have laughed. But Drift was intimidating when he wanted to be. He had once grabbed a client who had tried to short change them. He had thrust him against the alleyway and held him there until he had coughed up the rest of the shanix. Blurr had been surprised, given how frail Drift had always looked.

He was probably even stronger now he had filled out. Blurr prided himself on being able to take care of himself. But he didn’t mind the extra protection Drift’s company offered as they headed downstairs.

Fortunately for his skeezy landlord, he didn’t make an appearance and they emerged out of the run-down building without incident. Blurr was almost disappointed. It would have been amusing to see his landlord cowering in Drift’s shadow.

But he supposed it was better to have avoided him in the long run. Just because Drift had offered protection didn’t mean the kid actually wanted to flex his muscles.

“So how are you getting back to this guy’s place?” Drift asked him.

Blurr shrugged,

“Cab,” he said, “Even though it’ll cost me an arm and a leg.”

“Maybe First Aid or someone can give you a lift,” Drift said, “I was heading to the clinic anyway.”

Blurr shook his head,

“Thanks but no thanks. I can find my own way.”

He didn’t want to rely on the charity of people he didn’t know. People who might turn around and say no. That would put both he and Drift in an awkward position. Besides, he didn’t want to sit in a car with a stranger who might ask him questions. Questions he would feel compelled to answer because they were giving him a free lift. It wasn’t like a cabbie who he could easily ignore on the basis he was paying the fare.

“Are you sure?” Drift said, “It’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure,” Blurr insisted, “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Drift seemed reluctant,

“You want me to wait ‘til you find a cab?”

“Nah,” Blurr said, “Might take a while. You know taxis hate coming to Rodion. You said you were headed for the clinic right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you better get going,” Blurr smiled, “Those bins won’t empty themselves.”

The playful jab caused Drift’s mouth to curve.

“Guess not,” he said, adding more hesitantly, “So I’ll see you when I see you?”

Blurr nodded. He preferred that to finality of ‘goodbye’, even though it seemed more apt. It wasn’t like they would be meeting each other again at the corner of Iacon and Third.

They had new paths now. Better paths, but likely ones that wouldn’t intersect.

“See you,” he told Drift.

His friend slid his hands into his pockets, shot him a final hint of a smile then walked off down the street.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh so Blurr is kind of a jerk in this chapter. But then it's in keeping with his IDW counterpart so yeah :(
> 
> Also GameDome is a cross between playstation or an xbox. I didn't want to use either so I invented a new name. A really crappy one XD

Blurr knew it was unlikely for him to catch a taxi without calling ahead and arranging one. That in itself presented a problem. He had no cell phone. He wasn’t about to ask a random in the street if he could borrow theirs. The request would probably be meet with an insult or worse a death threat. He had no choice but to find the closest pay phone. A good thing Blurr had become accustomed to the layout of Rodion. The nearest pay phone was a few streets over, provided it was still intact.

It was never a certainty in Rodion, where residents got their kicks out of vandalizing public property, occasionally with Molotov cocktails.

Blurr was relieved to find the phone booth operational. Heavily graffitied, but that had no effect on its dial tone. He set his suitcase on the ground inside the booth as he fished for change. He had memorized the phone number for the taxi service. That was the easy part. What was more difficult was convincing the idiot who picked up his call to send a cab to his address. She gave him the same spiel as the homophobic driver from earlier.

Rodion was out of the way, inconvenient, it would take at least an hour for one of their drivers to be available to pick him up.

“That’s fine,” Blurr snapped, “I’ll wait. Just make sure someone fucking comes.”

“There’s no need to use that kind of language with me Sir.”

“Just send someone,” Blurr ordered before hanging up on her.

An hour. Stuck in Rodion for an hour. Maybe more than that if the bookings bitch decided to screw with him and not send anyone at all.

Blurr tried not to consider that depressing possibility.  

He picked up his suitcase. He wasn’t about to stand in the phone booth for an hour, let alone the sidewalk. He was still dressed provocatively. The last thing he wanted was for a cop car to drive by, spot him and drag him back to the police station.

Blurr glanced around. There were a few divey looking shopfronts. One held his gaze longer than the others. Rodion Electronics. In the window a sign proclaimed in bold red letters, ‘GameDomes ½ Price!!!’ 

Blurr rolled his eyes. Chances were they had come off the back of a truck. But he had time to kill. He may as well take a look.

No sooner had he entered the store, he was accosted by an eager salesman.

“Hi. How ya doing? Need some help?”

The guy was young, tubby, with a wide grin. His name tag read Swurv.

“You have GameDomes?” Blurr asked bluntly.

Swurv nodded,

“Uh huh, yep, we do. You into gaming?”

There had been a video arcade that had thrived a short time in Rodion before falling victim to local pyromaniacs. Blurr had put aside some of his profits each week so he could visit the arcade and play the racing games. It was no substitute for the feeling of his dragster but it had made his existence a little more bearable.

The pyros had gone and spoiled that for him. Blurr had considered buying his own gaming console. But other expenses had taken priority and he’d ended up going without.

Until now. Even if he deducted the fare home, Blurr potentially had enough leftover shanix to purchase a GameDome and racing games.

“Yeah,” he answered vaguely, “Racing games. You got any?”

“Do we ever,” Swurv beamed.

He rattled off a list of race-themed titles.

“How much?” Blurr interrupted, “For a console and two or three games?”

Swurv continued to smile. Blurr wondered if he was hurting his face. It was definitely hurting Blurr’s eyes.

“For you, 100 shanix.”

Blurr didn’t like that price. A good thing Swurv seemed like an impressionable guy, the kind Blurr could hustle.

“Think we can drop that down to 80 shanix?” he said, all politeness and congeniality.

Swurv’s smile faltered a moment.

“Uh maybe,” he said, “If you agree to a date.”

He laughed rather self-consciously, raising his hands,

“Joke. Just kidding. I’m not a sleaze. I wouldn’t force you to go out with me. I’d love to take you to dinner though. You’re really… really, what’s the perfect word? Stunning. Yeah. You’re stunning.”

“Thank you,” Blurr forced himself to smile.

He didn’t like encouraging the chubby salesman. But if it got him what he wanted in the end, no harm, no foul.

Swurv seemed over the moon to have his compliment accepted.

“I’m Swurv by the way. Think I was so bewitched by you I forgot to mention.”

Blurr fought the urge to roll his eyes,

“That’s okay honey,” he leaned in and tapped a finger to his name tag, “It says it right here.”

Swurv visibly seemed to quiver.

“It’s actually Swerve,” he stammered, “With two E’s. I keep asking for a new name tag but… I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s still pronounced the same. What’s yours? Your name, I mean?”

“Blurr.”

“Blurr?” Swerve echoed, transfixed by Blurr’s proximity, “That’s nice. Two R’s?”

Blurr nodded. He was about to ease back into their negotiation but Swerve suddenly decided to tell him his life story – without pausing for breath.

“I’m a student. Chemistry major. Wanted to open my own bar but the parentals said I needed to get a ‘career’. Plus they thought cutting off my allowance would build ‘character’. This job pays peanuts but I get by. I know a pizza place that gives student discounts. Do you like pizza? I know. I know. Very stereotypical student. Pizza diet. But Wreck-Gar’s Pizza is to die for. And I don’t mean in the sense it fatally clogs your arteries haha.”

Blurr forced a titter of his own before he affected a deep sigh,

“Swerve, that sounds fun, it really does. But I’m already spoken for.”

Swerve’s grin crashed into a frown.

“Oh, that’s… That makes sense,” his smile twitched back into being, “You’re too hot to be single. But I’m not gonna hold that against you. 80 shanix for the lot. I’ll say the box was damaged so I had to lower the price. What do you say?”

Blurr smiled – genuinely this time.

“I say you got a sale.”

He made sure to inspect the merchandise first. It all seemed in order. In spite of that, Blurr was certain they had come into the shop through not quite legal means. But considering the deal he was getting, he wasn’t complaining. He handed over the 80 shanix to Swerve, who offered to carry his purchase to his car.

“I’m actually waiting on a cab.”

Swerve was suddenly pleading to drive him home.

“My car’s just outside. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go.”

“Aren’t you working?”

“Bluestreak can cover for me,” he waved at another shop assistant. Her idea of work seemed to be watching the film that was playing on the televisions, “Blue, watch the shop for me.”

“Huh?” Bluestreak’s eyes were still glued to the screens.

Swerve interpreted that as a yes.

“Thanks buddy.”

He turned to Blurr with hopeful eyes.

“Lead the way,” Blurr said by way of answer.

It was better than waiting for a cab that might not ever arrive. Swerve also didn’t strike him as the sort who would lure people to his car with the intention of murdering them. Annoying and talkative, yes. Secretly psychotic, no.

Swerve’s car was a small red and white shitbox. Blurr wasn’t impressed. It had nothing on his dragster. But he said nothing as he squeezed into the passenger seat. This silence was mostly maintained throughout the journey, Swerve filling the void with his chatter.

Blurr put up with it as best he could. It was a free ride devoid of homophobic insults. He concentrated on what lay ahead of him. Relaxing at Shockwave’s, breaking in his new console, waiting for Shocky to get home from work.

He wondered if he would be upset that Blurr had spent his shanix this way. Probably not. He had handed it over without any concern. Thanks to Swerve, Blurr could offer some of it back, if Shockwave even wanted it back.

Grimy streets eventually gave way into manicured gardens and large houses. Blurr made Swerve pull up one street before Shockwave’s.

“This is it,” he waved at a random towering mansion.

He thought it was best Swerve didn’t discover his actual address. The kid wasn’t a psycho. But he didn’t want him dropping by for visits.

If he did, he would find himself knocking on the door of a complete stranger.

Swerve helped unload his suitcase and GameDome out of his trunk.

“There you are Sir. No tip necessary,” he joked.

With a little more shyness he rummaged in his pocket and bought out a crumpled piece of paper.

“Here’s my number,” he offered it to Blurr, “Call me and we can hang out. Strictly non-romantical. Just a couple of bros, having fun, pizza, a party maybe.”

Blurr nodded. He wondered how long the pre-written phone number had sitting in Swerve’s pocket.

“Thanks for the lift,” he said.

Swerve grinned broadly,

“No worries. Anytime.”

Blurr waited until Swerve had driven off before he crumpled the phone number into a small ball and tossed it on the sidewalk.

He didn’t have the time or patience for a pal like Swerve in his life.

Though it wasn’t easy, lugging his console and suitcase that extra street to reach Shockwave’s house. He almost wished he had gotten Swerve to drop him off at the right spot. Still, he knew hindsight he would have regretted it.

He dumped his suitcase as soon as he let himself into the house with the spare key. He would shift it into the guestroom later. His primary focus was setting up his console and racing until his heart’s content.

But that proved more of a challenge than anything else he had faced that day. There were a bunch of cords he couldn’t work out. There was no instruction manual. Swerve had warned him prior to purchase. The shipment hadn’t come with them.

Blurr had assured him he was smart enough to figure it out.

Only it turned out he wasn’t. He had never owned a gaming console. Let alone a fancy television like Shockwave’s, which formed part of the challenge.

Each time he thought he got it right, something was off. The picture. The sound.

Blurr was grumbling under his breath, pulling out all the cords, intending to start from scratch when a voice startled him.

“Do you require assistance?”

Blurr hadn’t even noticed Shockwave entering the house. The teacher was standing in the doorway staring at him impassively. The lack of expression didn’t surprise him now. In fact it would have been more shocking to see him smile.

Blurr shot him a grin of his own,

“Hey Shocky. I’m trying to set up my GameDome. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Shockwave replied, “I want you to make yourself at home.”

Blurr held up the cords,

“Help would be good.”

Shockwave moved closer and took the cords from his hands. He assessed them in silence before connecting them one by one.

Blurr gave a whoop of delight as the set-up menu appeared on the screen. Complete with sound.

You wanna watch me play?” he asked, settling into a cross-legged position on the floor.

“Very well.”

Shockwave took a seat on the lounge. Blurr was happy to have an audience, though his attention was quickly consumed by the first game. _Speed Planet._ He changed the color of his car to blue and selected the first track.

It didn’t take him long to get the hang of the controls. He went from 10th place to 2nd.

“Yeah eat my dirt asshole,” he crowed as he overtook the car in first place.

“You realize you are addressing a simulation?” Shockwave inquired from behind him.

Blurr grinned,

“Of course I do. I’m just having fun.”

Shockwave was silent. Blurr entered the third lap in first place and remained in first place until crossing the finish line.

Victory was sweet and satisfying.

“Oh yeah! Bow before Blurr. Greatest racer of all time.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Shockwave,

“Did you see my last lap? Waaaay out in front. They had no hope.”

“Your technique was rather efficient.”

It was a clinical Shockwave-esque compliment. Blurr accepted it as such, with a smile.

“You enjoy these types of games,” Shockwave’s tone was more statement than inquiry.

“Racing games?” Blurr nodded, “Yeah. Kinda love racing in general.”

For a moment he considered telling Shockwave about his dragster.

But that was pretty heavy stuff. Stuff Blurr would prefer not to discuss.

He returned to the game, played several more rounds, securing victories and clocking faster lap times.

It was only after completing all the tracks that he remembered his manners.

He glanced back at Shockwave.

“Wanna have a go?” 

“I have no previous experience at this type of simulation.”

“Game. Call it a game,” Blurr rolled his eyes, “Simulation just sounds… Unnecessarily science-y.”

“Very well. I have no previous experience with this type of game.”

Blurr patted the floor next to him,

“You’ll pick it up easy. Smart guy like you.”

After a moment Shockwave joined him on the floor. Blurr gave him a quick rundown of the controls.

“See easy peasy.”

He made Shockwave sign in rather than using Blurr’s profile. He didn’t want him effecting his score if he sucked at the game. Shockwave didn’t express any objection. He did take forever to select a car, reading the statistics on each option.

“Just pick one,” Blurr said impatiently.

“It’s illogical to choose at random when there are statistics present to make a more informed choice.”

Blurr responded with a groan.

Finally Shockwave made a decision. With the paint job option he chose more swiftly.

It gave his car a ridiculous appearance. But Blurr was so relieved to have him finally ready to start the race he said nothing.

Shockwave’s command of the controls was impressive for a first timer. He managed to finish 3rd on his first race.  

“Not bad,” Blurr said.

He was surprised to hear the teacher emit something like a grumble. Shockwave hit RETRY and played the track again. This time he improved considerably, to the point he finished in 1st place albeit with another car close behind him.

Still victory was a victory. Unlike Blurr Shockwave savored it in silence before selecting the next track.

Blurr watched with curiosity. Shockwave took the lead much more swiftly this time around, even on an unfamiliar track. He supposed it might have had something to do with Shockwave watching Blurr’s original run.

His gaze shifted to Shockwave’s face, expression severe and focused. He barely blinked. Only his fingers shifted over the control buttons. Blurr watched him, listening to the roar of the engines in the background.

On wicked impulse he leaned forward and nuzzled Shockwave’s ear. He tensed, Blurr hearing the car swerve slightly off course before Shockwave corrected it.

Blurr repeated the action, failing to surprise Shockwave a second time.

“Why are you attempting to disrupt my concentration?” Shockwave asked sternly.

Blurr grinned as one hand slipped to finger the buttons of Shockwave’s vest.

"Can’t help it. Watching fast things makes me really horny.”

His hand dipped down seeking Shockwave’s crotch. Before his fingers even brushed over his belt, Shockwave’s own hand crushed over them.

“No.”

Blurr frowned,

“No?”

Shockwave’s hand lifted back to the controller,

“Not until I have sufficiently excelled at the parameters of this… game.”

“Are you serious?” Blurr chuckled, “You’re turning down this?”

Shockwave’s only answer was the sound of continued gameplay. Luckily Blurr was too amused to be offended.

“Guess I’m not the only one who likes winning.”

He settled back to watch Shockwave finished his final lap. Despite Blurr’s distraction he still managed 1st place. It was the same result as he played out the remaining tracks.

“Happy now Mr. Competitive?” Blurr crooned.

His amusement vanished when he saw Shockwave’s position on the overall scoreboard. His name above Blurr’s own.

“Ugh, you beat my score.”

He snatched the controller back. This needed to be rectified immediately.

“I take it my success has impeded on your arousal?”

Blurr could sense the amusement hidden in Shockwave’s monotone. He gritted his teeth,

“Damn straight. You’re not getting any until I’m back on top.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, this hasn't been updated in forever. Sorry folks. But now I give you more 'Blurred'. Enjoy :D

Blurr soon forgot withholding sex was actually on the table. He got so caught up competing against Shockwave nothing else seemed to matter. While virtual racing couldn't quite compare to the real thing, Blurr delighted in having an actual opponent again, one whose determination kept him on his toes. It made victory all the more satisfying when, after countless rounds, he ended up on top. Not by an extreme amount of points, but 1st place was 1st place as far as Blurr was concerned.

"Give it up Shocky," he couldn't resist taunting in his elation, "I'm the best."

"Indeed," Shockwave agreed, no hint of resentment in his expression. Though he did rise from the couch and Blurr's grin promptly fell, thinking he had offended him.

"Hey," he backtracked hastily, "You, um, still did good. In fact you almost had me a couple of times."

He smiled in reassurance. Shockwave responded with a nod,

"Though I failed to succeed, it was an... interesting exercise."

"Fun," Blurr said, "The word you're looking for is fun."

"Fun," Shockwave repeated hollowly and Blurr wasn't quite sure if he was agreeing with him.

"So sit back down," he told him.

"It's 10 pm," Shockwave informed him, much to Blurr's surprise, had they really been playing _that_ long? "I have class tomorrow."

"Call in sick," Blurr shrugged, "We'll hit up your fancy coffee machine and pull an all-nighter."

"I think that would be unwise," Shockwave said, "For both of us. You also have an engagement tomorrow."

"I do?"

"The seminar at the police station."

"Ugh," Blurr pulled a face, "Can't I skip it? I know about safe sex."

"I believe Pax said your attendance was compulsory."

"Pfft, what's he gonna do, track me down?"

"I am your guardian," Shockwave said, "I expect he would call in the event of your non-attendance. I would prefer avoiding this, if it's all the same to you."

Blurr sighed. The seminar would be a pain in the balls. But he did owe Shockwave a lot, enough to know he should spare him the hassle.

"Okay I'll attend the stupid thing," he huffed, "But I'm not tired."

A slower, more seductive smile spread over his lips,

"Perhaps we can think of a way to wear me out."

"An intake of calcium is purported to aid in sleep," Shockwave said, much to Blurr's consternation, "The amino acid tryptophan aids the production of serotonin and melatonin."

Blurr stared at him.

Was that Shockwave's super nerdy way of suggesting he drink a glass of milk?

More importantly, had Shockwave completely missed his innuendo or simply ignored it?

Perhaps he needed to make himself clearer.

"I was actually talking about..."

He halted abruptly.

What use was explaining himself, when Shockwave had shown no interest in sex up to this point?

Blurr was baffled as to why. Was celibacy part of the experiment, Shockwave seeing if he could resist all Blurr's advances?

That sorta made sense. At least in Blurr's mind. After all, they’d had sex in the past, Shockwave seemed to have enjoyed it...

Well, Blurr thought competitively, if that was the score, two could play at that game.

"Never mind," he said, "I think I'll just play a few more rounds until I get tired."

Shockwave frowned,

"Studies have shown that electronic stimulation inhibits sleep."

"So I'll drink milk while I do it," Blurr said, "I'm kinda peckish anyway."

Shockwave continued to frown,

"I don't think your hypothesis is sound."

"We'll see shall we," Blurr rose from his cross-legged position, "In the meantime you go get your beauty sleep."

He pressed against him, savoring the feeling of firmness beneath his vest. Shockwave made no attempt to dislodge him, allowing Blurr to press a kiss to his lips - the same as he had the night before. It was a small opening for intimacy, one Blurr exploited as much as he could, seeing it as way to corrode Shockwave's self-restraint. But like the previous kisses there was no reciprocation, and after a moment Shockwave pulled away.

Undeterred, Blurr regarded him with a sly grin.

Shockwave stared back impassively,

"Please mute the sound," he said, "Good night Blurr."

“Good night boss,” Blurr purred in response.

Not a flicker of reaction in response. Blurr watched Shockwave head upstairs. He had to admit, his robotic thing was pretty impressive. Nothing seemed to faze him. Even letting a relative stranger do whatever he liked downstairs while he slept. Not that Blurr was going to trash the house or anything. But he did slip some whiskey from the liquor cabinet into his glass of milk before he settled in for more gaming.

_*_

“Blurr.”

Blurr groaned as he felt someone shaking him awake.

“Blurr.”

Blurr sat up groggily, feeling the sour taste of milk in his mouth. He grimaced as he rubbed his eyes.

Shockwave loomed above him. He was already showered and immaculately dressed.

“You did not go to bed,” his tone sounded faintly disapproving.

Blurr glanced at his current position, in front of the television. He vaguely remembered racing until his eyes had become too heavy to focus on the screen.

“Mmm yeah,” he gazed narrowly up at Shockwave, inhaling the scent of coffee he was holding, “That smells good.”

“It’s yours,” Shockwave held it out to him, “Drink it quickly though, you have half an hour before our ride arrives.”

Blurr stared at him quizzically around his coffee cup,

“Our ride?”

*

Shockwave explained how he usually travelled to school by means of a carpool. It was preferable to parking his own car in school grounds. There was always the chance of vandalism. Not just from the students either.

“Our janitor, Skywarp – who you met – once decided to print off fake parking fines and attach them to the windscreens of the faculty cars with his bank account details on them.”

“Did anyone fall for it?” Blurr asked.

“Only Tailgate from memory,” Shockwave answered, “They were less than believable forgeries. But Cyclonus persuaded Skywarp to return his money.”

“Cyclonus? Was he that Principal?”

“No that was Prowl. Cyclonus is the history teacher. You’ll meet him again today. He and Tailgate will be here shortly to pick us up.”

“Why me as well,” Blurr asked, “It’s not like I’m going to school.”

“But your destination is close by,” Shockwave said, “I thought it would be more economical than you taking a taxi.”

Blurr strained to detect any disapproving undertones in his statement. Shockwave had handed him a wad of cash yesterday, shanix Blurr had used on something other than taxi fare. Shockwave hadn’t made any comment of it though, or asked for the return of any change.

There was also nothing in his monotone that hinted at reproach either. But Blurr decided it was best to agree. He didn’t feel like dealing with more homophobic cab drivers anyway.

“How are you gonna explain dropping me off at a police station?” he asked.

“There’s no need to drop you off there specifically,” Shockwave said, “Your appointment is not until 11. I was thinking you could walk from the school. It’s not far from the station. As for your motive for being in Rodion, I don’t think we need to go into detail. If Tailgate asks, you can say you’re running errands. I will warn you, he is… talkative.”

*

Cyclonus’ car was a restored Tetrahexian. It was no dragster but Blurr could appreciate a good piece of history when it came to cars. It was presumably valuable too, causing Blurr to wonder why he would risk parking it at the school. Perhaps it was the general aura of intimidation the owner gave off. For a history teacher Cyclonus gave off some serious ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes. If Blurr was a student, he would certainly think twice about vandalizing his property. Not that he would, the car was a classic.

He wondered what make of car Shockwave had. He hadn’t mentioned. Blurr knew it had to be expensive, in keeping with the rest of Shockwave’s possessions. He might have asked him, if not for Tailgate whipping around in the front passenger’s seat and beaming at him.

The little guy sure was friendly, especially compared to Cyclonus, who had only offered a clipped greeting before descending into silence.

"How was your business trip?" Tailgate asked.

The question caught Blurr unawares. Business trip? Oh right, Shockwave had mentioned using this an excuse for Blurr's absence.

"Oh, uh, good," he told Tailgate, "Did Shocky tell you much about it?"

"Only that it had to do with racing.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Blurr could have simply left it at that. But Tailgate had a look of fascination on his face and Blurr couldn’t fight the urge to embellish. After all, he could make up any story he liked. Tailgate wouldn’t know any better.

“It was stunts. For a movie,” he said.

“Oh wow,” Tailgate exclaimed, “Did you hear that Cyclonus?”

Cyclonus grunted in response, eyes focused on the road.

“Which movie?” Tailgate said excitedly, “Wait, is it the new Speed Demons 3?”

Blurr grinned,

“Sorry I can’t give away too much. But it’s definitely got a lot of car chases.”

He relished the look of awe on Tailgate’s face. So much he was tempted to make up some fake spoilers. Surely there was no harm. Most car movies had their share of generic stunts. But then he felt Shockwave’s hand on his, applying a gentle pressure. Blurr interpreted it as a subtle warning. He sagged a little but complied. 

“So you like car movies?” he directed the conversation a safer, more general direction.

“Oh yeah,” Tailgate said enthusiastically, “Well, I like most movies. Cyclonus likes period movies, even though there are usually a load of inaccuracies. At least he says."

“What’s this ‘he says’?” Cyclonus growled, “I only say it because it’s true. Have you seen the Nova Prime biopic?”

Blurr was silent. Even if he had been able to afford trips to the cinema, he wouldn’t have picked a historical movie. Shockwave had seen it, however, and agreed that there were a lot of facts omitted.

“I thought the effects were good,” Tailgate said.

“Pah, effects,” Cyclonus said, “What good are effects if the story isn’t told truthfully?”

“It makes things look cool,” was the smaller man's answer.

Cyclonus gave him something of a long suffering look before turning his attention back to the road. Tailgate, meanwhile, introduced a new topic. ‘Top 10 favorite movies’.

“I’ll go first,” he said, “Let’s see…”

It turned into a complicated process for him. He couldn’t decide which movies he liked better than others and ended up in a debate with himself. Blurr soon stopped paying attention. Shockwave’s hand was still cupped over his. The opportunity was too great to resist and he reached to stroke it with his free hand. Shockwave responded with a slightly curious look. Blurr shot him a smile, trailing his fingers over his knuckles.

Trapped, aren’t you?

It would look odd for him to pull his hand away. Not in a car with his colleagues, who believed Blurr was his other half. But as Shockwave sat there, accepting his touch, Blurr preferred to think the science teacher was actually enjoying it. Especially when he felt Shockwave squeeze his other hand, ever so slightly. This time it felt more approval than warning.

Blurr smiled to himself and continued at his task. Shockwave did have nice hands. Large, solid but somehow elegant. Hands he’d like over the rest of his body, but all in good time.

For now he enjoyed what he could get. He was almost disappointed when they pulled into the faculty car park of Rodion High.

Tailgate bid him a cheerful goodbye before he and Cyclonus set off towards the main building.

“I thought you might stop by the school after you’re finished,” Shockwave told Blurr, “We can have lunch together.”

“Aww, like a lunch date,” Blurr teased.

“If you wish to classify it as such,” came Shockwave’s monotone reply.

Blurr grinned,

“It’s a date then.”

Shockwave answered with a slight nod.

“You’ll need to sign in at reception,” he explained, “It’s protocol for guests. Prowl is rather particular about the rules and Miss Arcee, his secretary, is strict in enforcing them.”

Blurr rolled his eyes,

“What’s the worse she can do, order me off school grounds?"

“More likely physically escort you,” Shockwave replied, “She’s quite… strong. In any case, I’d rather you follow the rules. The reception is also the most advantageous meeting point, given your unfamiliarity with the school’s layout.”

“Actually I went to school here,” Blurr admitted, “So I’m kinda familiar.”

He omitted the part where he had dropped out to pursue drag racing.

“Doesn’t look like it's changed much,” he added.

A.k.a. it still looked like dreary shithole.

“Regardless,” Shockwave said, after taking a moment to process Blurr’s revelation, “The meeting place should remain the same.”

“You’re the boss,” Blurr acquiesced with a shrug.

He seized another opportunity to smack an uninvited kiss to Shockwave’s cheek.

“See you later,” he chirped before walking away, a spring in his step.

But as soon as he exited the school grounds, his shoulders slumped, pace slowing at the unwelcome prospect ahead.

Stupid fucking seminar.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lotta Shockwave in this chapter. But there's a lot of cameos, if ya like cameos. I promise Shockwave will feature more in upcoming chapters.

Despite his dawdling pace, Blurr arrived at Rodion police station with time to spare. He delayed entering the building however, lingering outside with a mounting stubbornness. The premise of the lecture seemed so horribly patronizing. Blurr knew about STD’s. He wasn’t stupid. He had half the mind to walk away. But he had promised Shockwave. So he remained, scowling at misfortune.

“Well if it isn’t my boy blue,” came a voice behind him.

Blurr cringed. He turned to meet his arresting officer’s leering one-eyed gaze.

“What you doing here cutie?” Whirl crooned, “Waiting for me?”

“I have a sex class to attend,” Blurr informed him snippily, “Thanks to you.”

Whirl gave a barking laugh,

“Oh I envy you. You’re in for a treat. Mags acts tough but when it comes to the birds, bees and diseases, he turns into a blushing school boy. It’s hil-arious.”

Blurr tried not to flinch as Whirl circled him, like a shark moving in for the kill. He was relieved when the arrival of another officer diverted his attention.

“Hey Cutter. Cutter, is that donuts?”

The officer had a telltale box on his hands. He halted, looking less than thrilled at Whirl spotting him.

“Um, yeah.”

Whirl promptly abandoned Blurr,

“Well you gonna offer me one ya cheapskate?”

The other officer’s mouth receded in a tight frown,

“Me and Roller were going halves.”

Whirl ignored the comment, jimmying the box lid with his claw and hooking up a donut. He crammed it into his mouth ravenously. Cutter (a confusing nickname to Blurr, since his name tag read TRAILBREAKER) watched with a sigh. He closed the lid, gaze drifting to Blurr.

“Uh, can I help you sir?”

“Oh no, I’m all good officer,” Blurr gave him a bright smile, “Unless you wanna offer me a donut.”

Cutter seemed flustered by the request,

“I, uh…” his hand actually moved to open the lid.

Whirl let out an exaggerated sigh,

“Cutter don’t feed the hookers.”

He began nudging Cutter towards the station entrance, shooting a Blurr a long suffering glance over his shoulder,

“Rookies,” he said, followed by a perverse wink.

Blurr clenched his fists to avoid throwing him the middle finger. It was bad enough the guy had arrested him, stolen 150 shanix, now he had the nerve to cheat him out of a donut.

Fucking asshole.

There were no free snacks at the seminar either, though it did turn out to be reasonably entertaining. Whirl had been right about Detective Magnus. He was noticeably uncomfortable in his role of speaker. The fact he tried to remain stern made things even more comical. Especially when he listed the names of STD’s in a tone that was equally severe and squeamish.

Blurr bit his lip to keep from giggling. Some of his fellow attendees weren’t so good at suppressing their laughter.

Magnus gave them something of an outraged glower,

“There’s nothing funny about gonorrhea.”

His tone of voice set off more giggles. Magnus stared mournfully skywards,

“Why am I always assigned this seminar,” he directed his gaze back to the class with more intensity, “Alright settle down all of you.”

“Yeah shut up,” Blurr spoke up in support, “I have places to be.”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, allowing Magnus to continue, this time without interruptions. Blurr was relieved when he seemed to reach a conclusion, the gist of which was ‘practice safe sex, blah, blah, blah’. Magnus was looking relieved himself. Until a younger, ginger-haired officer came bounding through the door,

“Yo Magnus, you forgot this.”

He grinned as he pushed a box into Magnus’ hands.

“Oh – er – yes,” Magnus said, with even more discomfort than previously shown, “Thank you Rodimus.”

Rodimus beamed gleefully in response, seeming to deliberately linger in the room as Magnus forced out his next words,

“In supplement to our Sexual Awareness Initiative, the Rodion Police Department would like to offer all participants a complimentary prophylactic, to be used at their discretion and in accordance with the safe sex practices outlined in this seminar.”

“Are you gonna show us how to put one on?” some jokester asked.

Magnus grimaced,

“Surely you know the proper application of a prophylactic.”

“I think I saw a banana in the breakroom,” Rodimus said eagerly, “I could go fetch it.”

Magnus shot him a brief glare,

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, “We’ve run out of time. I trust all of you unfamiliar with a prophylactic's correct application will engage in extra-curricular research.”

He set the box down on the table in front of him,

“You are all dismissed. Please take your complimentary prophylactic on the way out.”

Blurr wasted no time in rising from his seat. He considered walking past without taking his free gift. But he figured ‘complimentary’ translated as ‘compulsory’. Besides, he thought as he fished one out of the box, he could show it to Shockwave.

“The cops told me to practice safe sex right away.”

Blurr wondered how he would respond to that sort of hint.

“You know you can say condom right?” Blurr overheard Rodimus saying to Magnus, “It even has less syllables.”

Magnus gave him a weary look in response.

“Prophylactic is the term used in the written materials. I saw no reason to deviate.”

Whirl chose that exact moment to poke his ugly head through the door,

“Hey sex offenders,” he said cheerfully, “FYI, I poked a hole in one of those rubbers. Good luck to whoever picks it.”

He disappeared with a cackle. For all his height, Magnus took after him with surprising speed.

“Whirl you stop right there!” his voice rang out in the hallway, “The deed you’ve implied is completely irresponsible. Not only have you tampered with police property, you’ve undermined the whole foundation of our Safe Sex program! Don’t think I won’t be reporting this flagrant misconduct to Captain Pax.”

“Oh it was a joke,” Whirl retorted, matching Magnus’ volume, “Don’t get your panties in a bunch Detective Safe Sex.”

“That’s it. Pax’s office. You’ve been warned repeatedly against making sexually explicit remarks.”

“You’re freakin’ kidding me right?” Whirl protested, “How is that sexual explic-OWW! Lemme go, Magnus, ya big lug! Police brutality!”

Blurr couldn’t resist smiling as he imagined Magnus marching Whirl towards Pax’s office in a vice-like grip.

Serves him right.

Rodimus snapped him out of his happy daze, swiping the condom out of his hand.

“Yeah, probably best none of you take those,” he said, “Just in case."

Blurr didn’t argue. If Whirl’s co-worker believed he had gone through with prank, who was he to disagree.

He exited the police station with a sense of relief. Chances were he’d never have to step foot inside again, now he had given up hooking, now that he had Shockwave.

Blurr’s smile reemerged as he set off towards the school to meet him.

_*_

Blurr vaguely remembered Miss Arcee from Shockwave’s party. But that didn’t quite prepare him for the intense stare he received upon entering the reception.

“Who are you?” it came out as an order.

“Uh, Blurr,” Blurr found himself stammering a little, “I’m…”

Arcee thrust a sign in sheet and pen towards him.

“Fill that out and take a seat.”

Blurr filled out the form grudgingly. He felt silly for letting a woman in a pink business suit intimidate him. But even as Arcee busied herself with other paperwork, she still gave off a menacing air. Blurr returned the form as quietly as possible and moved towards a small row of chairs.

There was a bored-looking youth in a purple hoodie slouched on one of them. Blurr didn’t spare him much attention as he took his own seat.

Shortly afterwards a door beyond the reception cubicle opened.

“Miss Arcee?” a voice called.

“Yes sir?”

“Coffee. Please.”

“On it.”

The door closed. Blurr surreptitiously watched Arcee gather her purse and make her way out of her cubicle.

“Don’t move,” she addressed the boy in the purple hoodie, “I’ll know if you do. I know everything don’t I?”

The boy shot her a smile that was slightly uneasy,

“Yup.”

Arcee seemed satisfied. She turned her gaze on Blurr,

“Same applies to you.”

Blurr gave her a protesting look. He wasn’t some misbehaved student. The look Arcee offered in return was daring. ‘Try me,’ it seemed to say, ‘I’ll kick your ass’, followed by a menacing smile.

Blurr knew it was cowardly, but he counted ten seconds after she left before uttering the word ‘bitch’.

“Dude, she’s so hot,” the youth next to him piped up, “So scary hot. I bet she’s into all that dom stuff.”

“Wouldn't shock me,” Blurr muttered.

He honestly didn’t care. But at his response the kid leaned in a little closer,

“There’s this rumor she used to be a man,” he told Blurr, “But I don’t believe it. She’s too much of a babe.”

Blurr decided not to dignify that with response.

“So what’re you in for?” the youth asked.  

Blurr was surprised. Then somewhat flattered. Did he still look young enough to pass as a student?

"Nothing,” he said, “I don’t go here."

The kid’s brow knitted,

"Then why're you sitting here?"

"I’m waiting for someone."

"Who?"

Blurr considered telling him it was none of his business. But talking passed the time so he ended up answering,

"Shockwave."

The youth pulled a face,

“Oh the Cyborg.”

“Cyborg?” Blurr repeated with a touch of amusement.

“Yeah,” the kid said derisively, “He has, like, no emotion. Like a robot. He’s also a hard ass. Always gives me F’s.”

"Your name wouldn't happen to be Misfire?" Blurr took a shot in the dark.

The youth blinked at him in surprise,

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," Blurr answered, "I'm Blurr."

"Blurr," Misfire scratched his nose, "That sounds kinda familiar.”

The comment caused Blurr to straighten. Had the kid heard of his reputation as a racer? It was a while ago, a little before Misfire’s time, given his age, but maybe his father or older sibling might have mentioned his name. Blurr had been considered an up and coming legend before tragedy had struck.

"I used to be a racer,” he said, deciding to test the waters.

Misfire’s eyes widened,

"No way, like Fasttrack?"

Blurr’s expression darkened. Fasttrack was a former racing buddy. He had won the race Blurr had been supposed to compete in, raking in all that glory without ever having the decency to visit Blurr in hospital. In hindsight probably a good thing, it would have made Blurr even angrier to hear him brag.

"You know Fasttrack?" he muttered.

"Everyone knows Fasttrack,” Misfire enthused, “He's a legend. I see him at Maccadams every now and then."

“Aren’t you underage?”

Misfire leaned closer to Blurr,

"Fake ID,” he said in a proud conspiratorial whisper, “Wanna see?”

“Nah that’s okay,” Blurr declined, his mind on something else entirely, “How often does Fasttrack show up at Maccadam’s?”

Misfire shrugged,

“Dunno for sure. Most Friday nights.”

Blurr processed this silently. He sometimes wondered if Fasttrack had known anything about the gangsters who had taken Blurr out of commission. Maybe this was fate telling him to track him down to find out.

Suddenly the door to the reception flew open.

A bald-headed man in a leather jacket stormed in. The insignia blazoned on it marked him as a member of the Scavengers, one of Rodion’s biker gangs. They were a small operation from memory, hardly as notorious as the Phase Sixers. They mostly hung out at a bar called the W.A.P. Blurr couldn’t remember what the acronym stood for.   

He might have wondered the Scavenger’s motive if he hadn’t yelled ‘Misfire!’ as soon as his gaze locked on the youth.

Misfire grinned uneasily in response,

"Oh hey Uncle Krok."

"Don't 'hey Uncle Krok' me,” the biker growled, “I just got a call from your Principal.”

“You did indeed.”

Blurr turned to see Prowl standing in his doorway. He had probably heard Krok’s arrival through the walls. Blurr wondered if he had overheard any of the previous conversation as well.

“I’m grateful you could come at such short notice from your… busy schedule,” Prowl said to Krok before motioning towards his office, “Please come through, you too Misfire.”

Misfire rose to his feet with a heavy sigh. He followed Krok into Prowl’s office, sparing Blurr a backwards glance that seemed to say ‘so fucked right now’.

The door closed. Blurr sat there regretting not asking Misfire what had landed him in this position. Surely it wasn’t just a case of him receiving a failing grade from Shockwave. He considered sneaking closer and trying to listen in. But Arcee could return any second. He was reluctant for her to catch him with his ear pressed to the door. So he remained in his seat, studying the pink cactus that was sitting on her desk. The choice of plant seemed appropriate, deceptively colorful and dangerous.

After a while the entrance to the reception once again opened.

To Blurr’s relief it was Shockwave.

“Blurr," he greeted him.

"Hey Shocky.”

He moved to hug him, not out of ulterior motive but simple happiness to see him. Shockwave’s emotionless calm almost seemed comforting compared to the host of personalities Blurr had encountered that day. He was especially glad when Shockwave allowed himself to be held, at least for the moment.

"How was the seminar?" he inquired.

"Uh, eventful, I’ll tell you later," Blurr said, "I was thinking, you wanna go clubbing Friday night?"

Shockwave gave him a peculiar look, as though he had spoken in a foreign language.

"Clubbing?"


End file.
